Lord Cadarn
by Floating Leaves
Summary: A short story from Arianwyn's point of view during the elves' exile and in the days leading up to the final battle in Plague's End. Addresses Arianwyn becoming Lord Cadarn, and the absence of any mention of Islywn's lineage during the quest. A gap-filler of sorts, depicting events in Lletya while the player is out on adventures.


A/N: I've always found it rather strange that none of the characters mentioned Islwyn's status as the last remaining heir to Baxtorian, who was leader of the Cadarn in his time. Instead, Arianwyn simply revealed himself to be Lord Cadarn. This is a gap-filler of sorts, featuring Arianwyn addressing that issue; this also takes a look into the thoughts of the exiled elves in the time leading up to the final battle in Plague's End.

Arianwyn still dreamt of the city sometimes, during nights when the wind was especially soft, or when Eluned wandered near Lletya and filled the air with her sweet, lilting song.

Fair Prifddinas! He had been born not long before the betrayal of the Iowerth Clan, and his memories were not so vivid as those of the other Elders. But the centuries had not dulled his recollection of the great spires that soared to the sky, shining in their crystal splendor.

He dreamt too of the fall, of how the clans fled and scattered. He dreamt of his father, and how he had been brought back to their first refuge dead, murdered by an Iowerth ambush.

Then he would awaken in the pre-dawn darkness of the forest, and reflect on how he, still mourning, had taken up the leadership of the exiled elves, and established Lletya with Lady Ithell in a secret glade in Isafdaar, with traps and seclusion to keep them safe from the Iowerth elves.

And he would despair, then, of ever rebuilding Prifddinas, for centuries had come and gone and still they could do naught but survive.

But then the sun – the sun! forever unchanged in its glory, while the affairs of mortals passed by – the sun would rise, and he would feel the warm flame of hope spreading anew in his heart. And as he went about his daily duties, he would smile gently, dreaming of a day when he might look upon the gates of Prifddinas once more.

"May Seren's light guide your way," Arianwyn called to the adventurer as she passed from the gates of Lletya. Seven of the eight elders were now found, leaving only one more before they could finally unlock the gates to Prifddinas.

He returned to the village center and ascended to steps to where Lady Kelyn Ithell stood at the wooden bannisters, looking out over the village. She had a slightly vacant look in her eyes, as if she were still coming to terms with her newly-discovered identity.

"My lady," Arianwyn greeted.

The elven lady started. "My lord. You need not address me so formally. I am still Kelyn of Lletya."

He smiled. "And I am still Arianwyn, the leader of the rebel elves. Though we may not be rebels much longer."

The two elves shared a look of hope and longing, both scarce able to believe how close they were now to the restoration of their lost city.

"You will take up leadership of your clan at long last," Kelyn mused, "and become Lord of the Cadarn as you were meant to be."

"Ah." Arianwyn bowed his head slightly, hesitating. "That is what I wished to speak to you about."

"Oh?"

"I was wondering…I was wondering if it would not be better to return the leadership of the Cadarn Clan to its origin."

"To its origin? You mean…to the line of Baxtorian?"

"Aye."

Kelyn raised an eyebrow. "You cannot mean to offer the position of Clan Elder to Islwyn."

Arianwyn turned to look at her, frowning. "That is indeed what I meant. He is the sole remaining heir to our last and greatest king. We are about to return to our greatest city. Is it not fitting?"

"But he is no leader, and well do you know it."

Arianwyn did not reply.

Kelyn sighed. "At least you must ask him if he wishes to become leader of the Cadarn."

"I shall do that," he said, relieved.

Arianwyn found Islwyn polishing his bow beneath a solitary tree at the edge of the village square. When the bowyer saw Arianwyn, he rose to greet him.

"Arianwyn. Are we leaving now?"

"Not yet," he replied. "There is one Clan Elder still to be found."

"Ah."

Arianwyn hesitated before beginning. "You know that I vowed not to take up leadership of our Clan until Prifddinas was restored. You know also that amid the confusion in the decades following the Divide, a successor to Baxtorian was never formally named. I do not, therefore, have true claim currently to the title of Lord of the Cadarn."

He paused to gauge Islwyn's reaction. The bowyer was silent, his face expressionless.

"I have come to offer you, Islwyn, leadership of the Cadarn Clan when we retake Prifddinas, if you so wish it."

Islwyn looked at him oddly. It was a long moment before he replied coolly, "I do not know what possessed you to think of doing any such thing."

Arianwyn blinked, taken aback. "I had thought…after all, it is your right…"

The bowyer shook his head. "Baxtorian passed from these lands centuries ago. By leaving his people, he forsook leadership of the Cadarn for himself and his heirs. I have no right to it."

"It can be restored to you–"

"It does not need to be," Islwyn replied, smiling sadly. "My sole wish is to win this war at last and rebuild our city to its former glory. You cannot imagine that our people would desire my leadership over yours, when it is you who have brought them through these dark times, whilst I wandered in exile. All I ask for is a place among the elves once more."

Islwyn clasped Arianwyn's shoulder firmly. "There is no doubt that you are our rightful leader, Arianwyn. And it is my honor to stand behind you in this last battle."

Thank you for reading, and please review!


End file.
